Dreams: Nazis and Lamb

In the tradition of the Shark's dream-recording blog posts, I share with you two recent excursions into my id:

Island of the Nazis

On the night of 2 January I found myself on a boat approaching an island off the U.S. Pacific coast. The island was fairly covered with trees, but a few hundred feet from the shore where we docked there was a cabin, overlooking the ocean. My brother Scott and I went to the cabin, where we sat and talked for a moment (I don't remember the conversation). I glanced out the open door and noticed people moving up from the shoreline toward us. Nazis! One of them was dressed like some sort of officer, and the rest were his stormtroopers.

I turned the table I was sitting on onto its side to use as a shield, then pulled a small handgun from my pocket. It was old and I wasn't even sure it if was loaded, but I had no time to check the clip. The Nazis were coming through the door! I put my arm up over the edge of the table to see if I could get a few rounds off, but the trigger was stuck. The officer pulled his Luger and shot me in the wrist. I dropped my pistol. I started to bleed pretty badly, but the Nazi officer didn't seem to care.

"Vhat iz ze radio frequency you are broadcasting on??!" I refused to answer--on principle, really, since I had no idea what he was talking about. This angered the officer, so he put his gun to my head and was getting ready to pull the trigger when Scott blurted out the answer, saving my life. This satisfied the Nazis, and they allowed Scott to right the table and help me lie on top of it while he administered first aid to try and stop the bleeding. I had been trying to apply pressure to my wrist this whole time, but the bleeding wouldn't stop. "I don't think it's really all that bad," Scott said. "It looks like a pretty small wound." I looked and saw that he was right. Then I looked away, looked back, and saw a gaping hole opening into my forearm. A nurse (where did she come from?) came in, looked at my arm, and announced that part of it would need to be amputated immediately. And it was.

Someone else who showed up in the cabin said that my amputated flesh shouldn't be wasted, and proceeded to toss it onto a grill. A few minutes later it was done, but the cook decided that he probably shouldn't feed it to anyone, seeing as how that would be cannibalism. But he figured that before he threw it out he should offer me a bite. "Don't you want to know what you taste like?" Turns out that I did. It also turns out I taste like lamb.

Okay, so maybe one is enough for now. I'll post the second dream tonight or tomorrow.